


009

by DoraTLG



Category: James Bond - Fandom, Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: Case Fic, M/M, POV Third Person, a little bit, hard to tag, i could tag it but that would spoil it, it's good don't worry, just go read it ok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-27
Updated: 2014-09-27
Packaged: 2018-02-19 01:12:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2368880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoraTLG/pseuds/DoraTLG
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is only one double oh agent left in the MI6. Well, if you don't believe the myths.</p><p>(I had my first Japanese language lecture and something more than caught my attention. So I wrote this and I can say I'm proud.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	009

**Author's Note:**

> I am so excited :D I really like this one! I really do! By the way, sorry for typos, but my comp is being weird and sometimes just ignores that I type.

My first day at work was boring.

I mean, you know, you go to MI6 with GREAT expectations. They're like THE most famous agency in England and beside CIA and FIB in the whole world. I was so stressed out and excited that first morning. But, great expectations mostly bring only disappointment. You can't top the name you have, as it seems. Not if you're MI6.

It was paperwork, mostly. They piled us with action reports and our only work was to REWRITE them into computers. That is scandalous. One would think that MI6 agents know how to use a computer, but no – and as it turned out, some of those reports were written BY HAND. Yes, you hear correctly. One was a napkin.

So, yes, I've met with the reputation of agents and now am sick of them. Although I would love to meet them in person. And Im not the only one. There is a team of us, a new wave of emplyees, you know? And I haven't met one single person who wouldn't be excited about agents and, of course, mostly the double oh section. Although there is only one double oh left now, if you don't believe the myths, and that was 007. The legend. I handled his action report once, three weeks into my employment, and my fingers were almost trembling with anticipation. Every word proved to me he is just like they say – ruteless, intelligent and idiotic at the same time. The only thing I needed to see on my own was HIM, in person, his sexappeal, his muscles, his blond hair and blue eyes. I would kill to have that opportunity.

That day came after two months. We went for a lunch with Jessie and Kyla – my new friends. I'm Akira, by the way. And no, I wass never in Japan, and not my parents or grandparents, but their parents immigrated long years before and we still keep our traditions – for example our names, and we speak japan in our family. So, we walk down the corridor towards the lift when the doors open and a man steps out. It's not a gorgeous man, as you may think by now, but something about him immediately catches our attention. He moves with a certainty in his bespoke suit, and although he is not traditionally handsome, he is something to look at. He has blond hair and his ears stick out a bit. But his eyes are the most piercing eyes I've ever seen. I know who he is. And by the way my two friends lose their breath I know they recognized him, too.

He walks past us. We turn to stare at his back.

„007?“ I suddenly speak up and he turns. We tense. It IS him.

„You are James Bond, right?“ I ask. My voice is strangely high.

„That is the name,“ he says. He is calm and doesn't look irritated – yet. That is good.

„I...“ I start, but Kyla is quicker.

„You are great!“ she squeaks. He frowns, confused.

„Eh... thanks,“ he says and wants to walk away, but Jessie stops him this time.

„Is 009 real?“ she asks. He turns again, slower this time, and this time he IS irritated.

„009 is a myth.“

He walks away and we let him. I'm embarrassed – for myself and for my friends and because I had the one opportunity to make a good impression and I blew it.

 

 

Four months in. I have better privileges now, for example I get to work in the Q branch sometimes. I understand computers pretty well, so they let me do the little work, but mostly I just get another paperwork. It's fine, though. People are very nice here. They're dorks and nerds and I like that.

And their boss is very likeable. Quartermaster is really pretty, actually. He has the best hair I've ever seen, makes me think of how it would feel under my fingers, those black locks that reach to his nape, and I like his hazel eyes behind his retro glasses. He wears really outdated clothes, though. Looks like my grandpa, but who cares - I'd like to see him naked.

I've seen 007 again. I was surprised to find out how much time he spends here - maybe that's why he is never in the part of the building where I usually work. He tends to sit close to Q and act like a child. I like him like this. Sometimes he throws stuff at his quartermaster and waits for his reaction. Once, after five minutes of constant bothering him with little balls made out of paper from his action report, Q just turned and with the calmness of gods bent down, picked one of those balls up, came to Bond and sticked it up his nostril.

I had to walk out to calm down, I was laughing so hard.

I think I found out they're dating the best way, because I would never believe anyone who would tell me. And I think it's some kind of a public secret. Everyone suspects, but I was th one who walked on them in the unused office where I go smoke every now and then. This time, it wasn't so unused.

I opened the door and was ready for a dark, silent room, but I was surprised to find it lighted and occupied. The double oh drew away from the quartermaster he had pushed against the wall and, apparently, kissing. They looked at her and I quickly closed the door and stared at its wooden surface.

„She's gonna tell everyone,“ I heard Bond's dead panned voice.

„You care?“ asked Q.

„Not really,“ Bond answered. After that was silence, so I assumed they went back to their entertainment.

I never told anyone.

 

 

Who is 009? He is another legend. But this time, just a legend, at least it seemed before I handled THAT report. 009 was a code name for an agent of MI6, an agent so precise in his work, so ruthless, so good. He never needed a back up. He never failed. And he was never seen. That's why no one really knew if he existed – MI6 kept the appearance he didn't. But I saw something that proved them wrong.

It was an action report from a scene of murder. 007's report. He was tracking down a serial killer of corrupted politicians. He reluctantly handed me some photos in the Q branch, telling me to keep them a secret, and then gave me the report. I think he appreciated that I never told anyone what I saw, and hoped I can do the same now. I just nodded and took the laptop assigned to me to that empty room I haven't used since... since. I read the report. I looked at the photos. I followed Bond's instructions and printed the copy out, then destroyed the one in my computer in every way possible, so not a trace was left, and went to the souterrain where some reports were held – mostly those important enough, but outdated, that had no space in computers. No one needed them, but it would be foolery to throw them out. I stored the report there. If anyone asked, it was in the building. But I doubted anyone would ask.

The photo showed a corps, sitting in a pile of death and blood, leaned against a wall. And next to the dead man, there was something written blood.

009

I never understood why he would sign the corps. And why this one. I never understood why he would reveal himself after all this time. But I think I know why he did it for Bond to see. He was after him.

Bond must have known. I've never seen him scared, not even troubled, so I can't tell if it bothered him, but if someone like 009 was after me, I would freak out. Of course, I'm no legend, I don't kill people for living and not on a scale of 007. But still... I was a bit afraid that we would lose him. And what about poor Q? He would be heartbroken. So I trusted Bond to be Bond and did everything he told me to, because if anyone could face 009, it was 007.

 

 

Q was so cute when he was frustrated. He ruffled his hair all the time, making it even bigger mess than it was, and he was, apparently, too hot in stressed situations, because he pulled off his cardigan and stayed only in a white shirt. But this time I didn't care, wasn't looking at him. An agent with a code name Guy Spierce was in the field and there was only a few seconds parting him from death.

Bond was in the Q branch when it started, reading Fifty shades of Grey out loud, and now he stood besides Q, so close their sides touched, and was intently staring at the big screen where Spierce run for his life. Literally. We all stopped what we were doing and just stared with him. Q was handling the situation.

I don't really want to think of what happened that day. An agent died. Q stood there with his head bowed, breathing deeply. Bond stood next to him, his blue eyes on the screen, almost not breathing at all. And then he reached with his hand and hugged Q's side, pulling him closer. It was subtle – or, it wasn't subtle, everyone saw, but who didn't know could think it was just a friendly support. I wanted to cry.

I think I want to remember them this way, though. Offering each other support. Because then it changed.

 

 

Who knows why it was me. Maybe some weird play of destiny. Certain is, I was meant to see it. Maybe because I was able to find the connection. No, not because I'm some kind of a genius. Because I'm a Japanese girl.

Bond was still trying to catch the killer of politicians. Now the world knew about him – it was hard to conceal a massive slaughtering of powerful men – so he had to work quickly. I was the one handling his reports now. Those where 009 was hinted I just hid and wrote new reports without him. Once I asked Bond why is it so important to hide the truth and he simply said MI6 knew about the other double oh. If they knew and he was killing, it meant something went fucking wrong and either they ordered him to do it or they can't control him anymore. Either way, they KNEW. They didn't need to know Bond knew too.

He believed the killer, if it was or wasn't 009, will strike in England this time. He had a pattern that became easy to predict. We were talking when his phone started ringing. He talked on it for a while, when told me to stay put, that he will be back soon, hopefully with the killer, alive or dead. Then he left.

I went back to the building. My cubicle was on the third floor, but I headed to the Q branch. I wanted to borrow one of the better running laptops. Maybe technology could help me find something I overlooked.

But I couldn't find Q anywhere. I asked one of the techs.

„It's his day off,“ he said simply.

I went to the souterrain and found every report. I sat there, on the floor, just with my issued phone casting fading white light at the reports, and a handle of one of the drawers dabbing into my back. What did I miss? Was there something to miss? Was it a code? It could be, from all I knew. There could have been something Bond wasn't telling even me.

„009,“ I repeated mindlessly. „009. 009... double oh nine. Double oh nine. Zero zero kyuu. What did I miss? What did I...?“

Oh my god. Oh my GOD! Double oh nine. Zero zero kyuu. Q. No. No, that's not possible. That is NOT POSSIBLE. Just a coincidence. Just a coincidence that Q is not in today. He... he loved Bond. Didn't he...?

I frantically dialled and cursed. No signal. I tugged the reports in between other files and run out of the basement.

 

 

Bond stepped into the flat. Every politician was killed in a place like this one – dirty and small, populated only by bugs. He had his gun pulled, ready to shoot. He heard some talk and when he steped into the room, he stayed still, unable to believe what he saw.

When Q saw him, he raised his gun and, not looking, shot the man standing beside him.

They stood like this for some time. Q was waiting for Bond to recover from the shock. Bond didn't want to.

„So you were ordering him to...“ he started weakly.

„I used him,“ Q said. They were silent. Bond understood – the killer was doing it all by himself. Q knew Bond was investigating this case. So he used it as a way to get to him.

„Why this way?“ he asked. Why like this? They shared a bed half the time they had some bed. He could be dead already.

His phone started ringing. He turned it off.

„Two reasons. The first one is my reputation. It must be sustained. Just little tells, now and then, that I may exist. Not a proof. And you did that, with that Japanese girl.“

Bond felt the world collapse on him.

„How long...?“ he asked.

„Twenty years.“

„Oh my god.“

Twenty years. Q was thirty two. He became 009 when he was twelve.

They were eyeing each other now – well, Q was waiting, again, and Bond looked like he was fighting some sort of a fight. And losing.

„Please,“ he said finally with an edge of desperation. He closed his eyes. „Not again.“

Q's expression changed. He looked at his lover with a sadness in his eyes, and endless compassion. He moved closer to him, so close he could touch Bond's face and he did.

„Don't you want to hear the second reason, James?“ he asked tenderly. Bond opened his eyes. The blue was filled with pain.

„You served your time,“ 009 said. „Do you want to be a legend, 007?“

 

 

I had to go home eventually. I didn't want to tell anyone what I found out – anyway, who would believe me? I had no proof. I only THOUGHT I saw a connection. I had to wait for Bond. And I had a terrible feeling I'm never going to see that man again.

I opened my front door and switched the light on. I stepped in and closed the door. I walked to the living room. And then I dropped my purse.

Q was sitting in my arm chair, but it was Q I never knew. Dressed in a dark shirt, jeans and a black leather jacket, with an expression of regret masked behind hard eyes.

„Zero zero kyuu,“ I said. The line of his jaw sharped.

„Hello, Akira,“ he said. I tried to breath, but the inhale was stuck in my throat.

He stood up and pulled out a gun.

„I am sorry,“ he said.

„Is he alive?“ I asked with tears in my eyes. He hesitated, then nodded.

„He doesn't know that I'm here,“ he said. I finally inhaled. He shot me in the head.

 

Q stood above the body.

„And he never will.“


End file.
